For The First Time
by dwut
Summary: Hermione has decided it is time to do the 'dirty' with Ron. She studies, she plans, she even primps, but when it comes down to it, who can be ready? Rated M for future smut, R/HR
1. Chapter 1

_Hermione has decided it is time to do the 'dirty' with Ron. She studies, she plans, she even primps, but when it comes down to it, who can be ready? Rated M for future smut, R/HR_

**For The First Time**

Hermione's best approach to every subject of concern or interest was to study it. Graduation from Hogwarts had in no way changed that, which is why our story finds her curled up on her bed, studying. As has been the case many times before, her hair is a poofy mess, restrained only by a half-hearted bun and her aura is a determined one: she is on a mission. Only this time, her literature is a little bit different. She is sitting in her bedroom, door locked against her newly re-settled parents in the kitchen. On her bed are a whole slew of romance novels turned to the raunchiest parts and a notebook. Hermione, on this fine day in the middle of the winter, is studying sex.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Brushing an annoying bit of her hair free of her face, Hermione leafed through a particularly smutty tidbit in the closest soft-cover. Did people really even do that? she mused. She made a neat note of it before moving on. She'd been on this particular study mission for a day now, readily devouring all things sex: the mechanics, the emotional, the physical, the tricks, the outcomes. Of course, like any girl of eighteen she knew the basics-it was hard not to live in a dormitory and get a relatively clear picture. But now, considering intercourse as her next relationship step, she felt the need to be extremely well versed. She also believed it was helping quell her nerves.

This aforementioned relationship, of course, was with non other that Ronald Weasley. After a few off kilter and slightly awkward dates, the two had figured out what being an actual couple was about, and headed into the cool autumn months breaking away from Harry and friends to kiss feverishly in dark corners and on lumpy couches. They had also started spending long amounts of alone time together that did not consist of saliva exchange, and had managed to reduce their ratio of bickering to actually talking.

It had been Tuesday night that had started Hermione thinking about sex. She was attending a dinner party at the Weasley's abode which had ended in a friendly battle between Fleur and Mrs. Weasley about who would do the dishes while George exploded something foul under Percy's seat. At this point, Teddy Lupin had launched himself from the table and taken four running steps before faceplanting in the carpet and bursting into tears. Ron, being the closest to this minor catastrophe had risen from his chair before crouching awkwardly (he had very long limbs) next to the screaming Teddy. Before Hermione could detangle herself from the tightly packed chairs at the table, Ron had scooped Teddy up and was standing at full hight with the miraculously cured and giggling pink-haired baby.

And in that moment, that shining moment, Hermione was struck with the sudden need to get in his pants. Some crazy feminine yearning kicked in seeing him with a baby, his shirt riding up over his hips, his characteristic lopsided grin plastered on his face. No, she did not want kids yet. No way. But just the idea that he could have them...with her...and that he'd be a great father in the long run...

She must have had a stupid look on her face, because at that moment Ron had looked away from Teddy and right at her, eyebrow quirking up immediately and eyes holding a question.

Later the same night, in the crisp chill on the back porch, Hermione announced her interest in intimate coupling. Ron, sitting next to her on the porch swing chocked on his healthy helping of cherry pie, turned a fascinating shade of red around the ears, and gasped out a "Blimey, 'Ermione!"

For a moment he stared at her as if he'd never seen anything quite like her, and then his face broke into a disbelieving grin.

"Meet you in my room in five minutes."

Hermione laughed, the tension she hadn't realized was even there breaking.

"Not now, you twat. But, soon."

And so that was how she had ended up closed in her room, studying romantic fiction, suddenly faced with the realization that she didn't really know what she was doing. They were supposed to meet just here, in this very bed in 24 hours when her parents went back to Australia to settle their scores. Hermione thumbed through her notebook and felt her first shiver of fear-what was she doing?

_Please read and review! More very soon, I'm on a writing role. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you very much for the reviews, **mrandmrsweasley, hplover121, glee851, chamiepop, nona, and The DA is dressed to the nines!**_

**For The First Time: Motherly Advice  
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Hermione woke on the morning of February 23rd with a start. For a moment she looked around groggily and tried to discern what had woken her, but then she remembered the dream she had been having and fell back on her pillows.

_Ron _had been the subject. Ron who she hadn't dreamed about so actively since Lavender had him in her clutches. Those dreams had always been blurred and emotional-most of the time Ron would appear silent and far away and Hermione would wake feeling beat. Now, though, the dreams were very different. Often they involved intimate details, like how Ron's ear looked up close, how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how the faded scars on his arms glowed a soft pink in the darkness... Sometimes they explored more and more unlikely plots for their sexual encounters in the distorted reality that only dreams can provide.

This particular dream had been set in Egypt, near the pyramid where Ron's Daily Prophet photo had been taken in the summer before Third Year. Strange, she thought as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes, she had never even been there. They had been running away from something or someone, holding hands tightly and not speaking a word. As the dream progressed, however, Hermione had moved away from Egypt and lost Ron's hand-she now seemed to be running from him. At the corner where she lived, she had turned suddenly to find that Ron was behind her...and naked. That, she supposed, was when she awoke with a start.

Well, she thought, there was no use going back to sleep after _that. _She slid out of bed and padded across the floor to her bathroom where she looked blearily at her reflection in the mirror. Her summer tan had faded away to reveal the pale skin beneath, and with her night shirt hanging off of her shoulder, she almost looked lovely. Almost. On closer inspection, her hair was a bit of a mess, and there were definite circles under her eyes.

Hermione turned to her side and squinted at her reflection. What, she wondered, did Ron see when he looked at her? Unstayed, her eyes traveled to her breasts, small, reasonably normal, nothing spectacular really. Her hips had filled out a bit since that unfortunate lanky time in the Third and Fourth years of school. She was fine, she concluded. Fine, but not show-stoppingly desirable. Normally this didn't bother Hermione one bit-how often did someone really need to be a show stopper? She had gotten by happily looking the way she did for years, so why did it not seem to be enough this morning? Common sense told her to snap out of it, but the looming idea of being naked in front of Ron had her reaching for her old and out of date makeup kit.

. . . . . . . . . .

Fifteen minutes later she came down the stairs and into the kitchen where her parents were finalizing their travel plans at the table.

"Mum", she said "wouldn't this all just be easier if you and dad sidelong Apparated with me to Australia? It would just be a quick-"

"Dear, you know your father is not comfortable with that idea, and there's no sense in traveling separately" countered her mother, looking over her glasses at Hermione standing in the doorway. "Why Hermione" her mother looked at her more closely "What have you done with your hair? Are you wearing makeup?".

Hermione waited until her father had gone outside to fuss with the luggage in the boot before answering. "I've tamed it down a bit mum, I think it looks nicer"

Her mother crossed the room and took both of her hands before peering critically into her only child's eyes. "You know" she began somewhat tentatively "I think you're much prettier without it all." Hermione looked away.

"Is there someone you're trying to impress, dear?"

It was a simple question. Hermione could have answered 'No' or just shrugged the question off, but something deep within her wanted her mother's advice.

"Ron."

Her mother made somewhat of a clucking sound and squeezed Hermione's hands tightly for a moment. "I like that Ron Weasley" she said simply. Mrs. Granger was halfway back across the kitchen when she turned to look at her daughter and said suddenly: "You have a wonderful nose, dear."

"My...my nose?" asked Hermione, one hand dancing up to touch the aforementioned body part questioningly. It was not in any way what she had expected her mother to say. Mum was not done yet, though, it seemed.

"And I've always thought you had the prettiest wrists. Even when you were a little girl all the other babies had chubby wrists and you, you just had those dainty little things. It's why I bought you the slender watch-so your pretty wrists could show."

Hermione looked at her wrists in surprise. They were rather dainty.

"Your posture is magnificent. How you managed to maintain such a straight back after seven years of carting around books is beyond me. And your skin is so clear. You never had horrible acne like I did as a child. You're smart, and loyal, and genuinely wonderful Hermione. I'm sure he sees it all."

With that she headed out to help her husband with the car, leaving Hermione standing surprised next to the drying rack. How her mother always managed to say the right thing was beyond her, and, she supposed, always would be.

. . . . . . . . .

Hermione returned from dropping her parents off at the airport and getting a full round of hugs and kisses an hour and a half later. She dropped her keys on the sideboard by the door and glanced at her reflection in the mirror there. Her mother had been right. Too much makeup. Checking her watch (the slender one, for her dainty wrists) Hermione guessed that she had about twenty minutes before Ron's arrival. She hurried up the stairs to her room and stood still in the doorway for a moment, categorizing what needed to be done in that span of time.

The laundry basket she could jam under her bed, and there was honestly no reason for her collection of dolls from childhood to be lined up on the dresser so they went in the closet. Her notebook of sex study notes still lay on her night table and she thumbed through it one last time while deciding where to hide it. The particularly horrifying passage came up.

_...She groaned as his head skated down to her erect nipple, tounge slipping out to tease the flesh there...his throbbing manpart pressed against her thigh..._

"Euck" said Hermione aloud. In retrospect the studying seemed a bit silly. God forbid she actually say something like 'throbbing manpart' in real life.

The notebook eventually got shoved deep between the two mattresses, and Hermione pivoted towards her bathroom to take the makeup off. She was standing just in front of her bathroom counter, water running, re-considering her choice of underwear when she heard the telltale pop of someone Apparating into her room. From her vantage point in front of the mirror she actually could watch the blood run out of her face.

Butterflies taking full control of her stomach, hands shaking a bit, and taking deep breaths, Hermione opened her bathroom door.

Ron was sitting on her bed, looking every bit as anxious as she felt.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Thanks for reading! Please review! The next chapter will be up reasonably soon, and there will be some SMUT, I promise._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for the reviews **Robyn, Selene86, Sunnypunch, christiangirliemiranda, BookWorm77071, Rh3a, turttlehp, mrandmrsweasley and bekkahtee18!**_

_Ready for some smut?_

**For The First Time: And The Second**

"Oh, Hey Hermione" said Ron, playing off the awkwardness as if he had been sitting on her bed skimming through her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ all afternoon.

"Hi Ron" she replied, heart thrumming at the pace of a hummingbird's wings.

He had obviously put on a production (as had she, she admitted honestly to herself). He was wearing a very nice pair of jeans, not hand-me-downs, and the green shirt that she had once told him set off his red hair and freckles well. She had not mentioned that the shirt also showed off his well muscled forearms in a way that made her somewhat weak. His hair had been tousled in a 'I'm not really trying to be tousled' way, and she could almost smell the fresh clean scent of his deodorant from where she stood. Or maybe she was just imagining it.

The thing was that neither of them had actually christened today as 'Sex Day'. Hermione had invited Ron over, mentioned that her parents would be out, and asked him to arrive in her bedroom. The rest had been implied, and for once in what seemed to be his whole life, Ron had easily understood the implication.

She'd read enough romance novels to know what had to happen now. There had to be a spark, there had to be some handsy kissing and from there...from there they'd figure it out. She took four full fearless strides across the room, planted her hands on either side of Ron, and locked onto his lips.

Ron's response, understandably, was to fall over. He tumbled backwards onto the bed, laying the wrong way, and he brought Hermione with him. His lips were warm and wonderfully familiar. She could feel his smile under hers and opened her eyes a fraction to find him half grinning up at her. She pulled back and they paused a moment, Ron running his hand up and through her hair, a familiar motion. "You look really nice Herm" he said. She didn't give him a verbal response, just dove back in and kissed him with a fervor. The kiss quickly transformed into a very intimate affair, her arms in his shirt, his hands cupping her butt, his tongue running trails across her lips...

"Shirt. Off." gasped Hermione, who had been struggling with where Ron's shirt caught on his armpits for easily three minutes.

Ron wiggled out of his shirt easily and tossed it somewhere, then turned his attention back to Hermione, tugging hopefully at her shirt hem. There was a moment where Hermione just gazed down at him from her vantage point. Of course she had seem him shirtless before. At the beach, in the tent year 7 looking for horcruxes, in other similar heated moments...But he was ten times more attractive to her today for some reason. Now his hair was actually tousled, his mouth was red and wet, the veins in his arms and neck were standing out in sharp relief, and his freckled chest was somewhat flushed. Hermione pulled her own shirt off in a rush of desire for him, then, without much deliberation, her pants followed.

"Holy Hell Hermione." breathed Ron, ogling her underwear with extreme jubilation. He hooked his pinkie through her lacy knickers and grinned at them, somewhat spellbound.

"Not that these aren't bloody fantastic" said Ron, "but I never imagined you owning anything of the sort."

"I didn't have them until rather recently" admitted Hermione. She could feel herself blushing scarlet. "But I rather like them, what do you think?"

Ron's response wasn't exactly English, and his eyes had become a very arousing dark shade of green/grey. The finger hooked in her underwear pulled her back down on him and suddenly she found something even more arousing about him. This particular part was pressed right up against her, and with a shift of her hips (which elicited a very satisfying moan from him) she settled into a very comfortable place indeed.

She thought only briefly and with some mirth about the smutty romance novel excerpt buried underneath the mattress.

Hermione had started rocking her hips somewhat subconsciously, but the response she was getting was awfully hard to ignore. Ron's hands had locked onto her hips, right at the level of her underwear, and he was guiding, somewhat. His head was thrown back against the mattress and his eyes were half lidded, desire not masked in the slightest. This was about the point that they had gotten to previously in their sordid affairs. They were usually pressing helplessly against each other when they were either interrupted or one had to leave. Not this time, thought Hermione gleefully. No, this time, his pants were coming _off._

She shimmied off of him slightly so she could pull them down, and Ron's eyes widened a little in curiosity, and then upon realizing where she was headed, an expression akin to fear crossed his face.

"Uh" he said, and Hermione was suddenly worried what she was going to find.

He didn't stop her though, and didn't indicate that he wanted to stop. After a moment's pause in which she tried to gage what he was thinking, she pulled his pants over his hips. She was still looking at his face, but she couldn't help but register what had sprung free from his pants. She looked down.

Perfectly normal male anatomy. Pale, a few freckles across his thighs, red hair...hard as heck.

She looked up again to meet his eyes and suddenly could pinpoint the emotion there. He was nervous, his ears very red and his expression unsure. Without really thinking about it, Hermione reassured him with the question she really didn't have an answer to.

"Wow, are they all that big?"

It was the right thing to say. All traces of insecurity melted off of Ron's face to be replaced by a downright smoldering look. "No way Herm, I'm one in a hundred" he teased.

Pulling her back on top of him, he worked (with momentary frustration) at her bra before freeing it and sending it arcing across the room. He didn't give her time to worry about her breasts but moved straight down to her underwear saying something about "bloody brilliant" under his breath. And then, after a moment of confusion with her ankles and the red knickers, she was naked above him on all fours.

A glorious moment passed where Ron skated his hands gently down her sides and she almost sighed out loud, then they were back at it. She leaned down to kiss him again, letting her breasts touch, then her stomach, and then, finally, her lower regions.

"Fuuuuuuuck" groaned Ron into her mouth. "Why didn't anyone ever tell us how much better this is without clothes?" Hermione couldn't agree more. His skin felt fabulous below hers, and that was even before the addition of his very warm erection.

A few more feverish minutes of grinding and trailing kisses, Ron rolled them to be on top of her. "Lets..." he said "Let's do it."

It would have been hard to argue.

"There's a spell we have to do first", said Hermione, desperately trying to think past her muddled brain. "I wrote it down, I just don't remember...where could I have...?"

_"Contego" _Ron muttered._ "Contego..._something_. _Bollocks, why can't I remember?"

"Oh!" Hermione said, and jammed her hand under the mattress to produce the notebook. There on the inside of the front cover in her neat writing was the spell.

"It's _Contego Femina_! Have you got your wand?"

Ron's attention had focused on the notebook. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just, er, notes. I'll get my wand then, it was just here on the table..." Hermione hopped awkwardly to her feet and felt for her want on the table. Ron half rose from the bed (where he had still been laying the wrong way) and fished his own wand out of his pants pocket.

"I've got mine here" he said, the flush of desire still clear across his face and chest. And nether regions.

Still unsteady from her own desire, her embarrassment at the notebook and her sudden movements, Hermione took two steps back towards him, tripped over the corner of the rug, and proceeded to topple into him. He fell back, sprawling across the bed, and she face-planted in the soft skin of his stomach, just inches from the object of her current interest.

"After all my clumsy years, who would think you'd be the one to fall over?" he asked from somewhere above her.

Lifting her head and ignoring her vicious blush, Hermione started to work her way back up his chest to his head.

"Oh, you're leaving already? You could have stayed there as long as you-" Ron was cut off by Hermione kissing him fiercely.

Between the two of them they managed the spell and Hermione felt a curious warmth spread through her limbs. Ron's dick was resting, more like pressing really, against her, and she didn't want to keep it there much longer. Taking a deep breath, she gave him a nod which she was pretty sure he returned, then eased onto him.

It seemed to go in, but then she wasn't sure. Wasn't she supposed to explode with satisfaction at this point?

"Is it in?" she asked quizzically. She shifted her hips a bit.

"Yo..You shouldn't have to ask." hissed Ron between gritted teeth. He was clearly struggling not to remedy the situation very roughly.

He took her by the hips, gave her one warning squeeze, and then thrust his hips up against her.

Oh, now it was in. Hermione let out an audible yelp that might have been "Ow", it could also have been "Ron!", and now that she had a moment to think about it with him big and hard inside of her, she thought it may just have been "Oh yes please!"

She began to move above him, tentatively at first and then with increasingly less abandon. Ron was alternating between groaning and gasping, running his hands all over, squeezing her butt, her boobs, her hips. If he kept this up, she thought fleetingly, he was going to give her one mighty orgasm. When it did happen, it wasn't quite mighty, but it sure was there. She paused in her rocking to fall limp against him and breath in short gasps. His hands, surprisingly gentle, came up from her butt to run through her hair.

"Do I get a turn on top now?" he asked thickly in her ear.

Hermione rolled easily, regretting the loss of him inside of her as soon as she had turned. After a moment of confusion with her legs and his aim, he was back in, and she was being pounded back into the covers of her childhood bed by the man she loved.

He came quickly, less than two minutes later, and then apologized foolishly for not lasting longer. He rolled off of her sweatily, shaking a bit, and mopped them up with a washcloth from the bathroom. Finally he crawled back into the bed with her, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her sloppily on the top of the head.

"How was it for you?" he asked.

Hermione shifted so she could slip her legs between his from where she was laying on her side. She nuzzled her head in close to his shoulder and replied affirmably.

"Good." He quipped as he slipped off to sleep. "Because I thought it was bloody brilliant."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hours later she woke as he leaned away from her in the bed to retrieve something from the floor. Assuming it was his wand he was after, she closed her eyes again only to have them snap open again as he started reading aloud from her sex notes.

_"RON!" _

_"...He pinned her against the wall with his arms, tongue running down her-"_

"Ron!" She made a snatch at the notebook, but he had always been taller and quicker and he danced it just out of her reach, reading on, undefeated.

_"...belly and towards her quivering breasts, not stopping when she moaned his-"_

Hermione got the stupid thing at this point, though her momentum sent her tumbling off the bed.

For a moment she sat the floor, only just realizing that she was still very much naked. Ron, propped up on his elbow grinned down at her from his perch on the bed.

"You took notes." It wasn't a question.

"Well!" she said, a bit defensively "I didn't quite know what to expect, you know?"

"And here I thought you were just naturally so freaking sexy" His eyes were teasing.

"What if I am?"

"I'd believe it." Ron was sitting up on the bed now, inching towards her. "After all, you wrote the book" he indicated to the notebook hanging in her hand.

He slipped off of the bed and onto his knees, gloriously naked and took moved closer. He pulled the notebook free from her unresisting hand and tapped her lightly on the knee with it. He was on all fours, nose to nose with her, grinning like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Let's try page three."

And, she thought as their lips met, the feeling was mutual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_And that's all, folks. Thanks for reading, please drop a final review to let me know what you think of my smut, and keep an eye out for new stories!_

**_dwut_**


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